Night Bird Flying
by isawrightless
Summary: The fury of a pregnant woman is not something to be taken lightly. A little fact Altair refuses to believe...


Four knocks.

Malik doesn't even bother mumbling his discontentment because this is all pretty common by now. But he sighs, looks straight ahead, focuses on a space on the wall where shadows dance, generated by the candle on his desk. He's lying on his side, arm spread out in front of him, and he's trying not to think about how soft this mattress is for he knows he won't enjoy it for much longer.

Four more knocks.

Loud and urgent.

He can picture Altair standing on the other side, looking vulnerable in the absence of his robes, wearing only a pair of silwar pants, the scars on his body turning into white lines that seem to glow under the light the moon casts over the room, a displeased expression on his face, maybe even irritated, confusion on his mind.

"Malik!"

Closing his eyes, said being takes a moment to groan his own frustration. Why is it always when he's about to fall asleep? He wonders if Maria plans everything during the day or if Altair is simply a moron who chooses to bother her at night. He's lost count of how many times he's told Altair that pregnant women are dangerous. To this day he still remembers his own mother, carrying Kadar, screaming and crying for the silliest things, leaving everyone else perplexed and scared. Yes, scared. The fury of a pregnant woman is not something to be taken lightly.

A little fact Altair refuses to believe.

"Malik!" Altair tries to whisper, and it comes out like a hiss. It's amusing, really, and Malik is tempted to let him stay outside like a frightened cat running away from the rain. "I know you're awake."

And awake he is…When he could've be sleeping after dealing with those mindless novices all day, trying to be as great as their master except they don't even know how to hold a sword. Not to mention the little incident with the throwing knives in which his left ear came close to being chopped off.

"This is absurd! Malik, open the door," Altair is a second behind a desperate scream. "I'm your Master!"

Malik raises an eyebrow at that, tries not to but ends up smiling, anyway. He takes a deep breath, slides off the bed and his knee pops in protest. _I know_, he wants to say,_ I know_, but remains silent for fear of being labeled insane. He probably is.

When he opes the door, Altair stands before him just as he'd pictured a few minutes ago.

The Grand Master tries to get through, is stopped by Malik who gives him _that_ look, and Altair rolls his eyes. "I did not use my rank on you, I was just-" slumping, he shakes his head as if he can't believe Malik's actions. "All right, I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Malik!"

Laughing a little, he steps to the side and lets Altair in, closing the door behind him.

"Lock it," Altair says, finding a spot on the bed to sit, crossing his arms. The only thing that's missing is puffing his cheeks. "Use that desk over there to hold it."

Malik shakes his head. "I will do no such thing."

"But then she'll-"

"What have you done this time, Altair?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do I need to lock the door?"

"Because that woman is a monster!" Altair throws his arms in the air, the incredulous look on his face delights Malik more than it should.

"What happened?"

Hesitation.

If Malik hadn't know Altair for so long, he'd think the blush he sees on the man's face right now is but a product of his imagination. A pleasant shade of red tainting his cheeks, Altair averts his gaze to the floor, taking notice of a small crack on the tile.

"Altair?"

"She kicked me out of bed."

Malik is already smiling from ear to ear. He makes a mental note to congratulate Maria later for all the terror she's putting his friend through during this pregnancy. She probably doesn't mean to, but Altair fails to see that, thinking he's done something wrong or that his wife actually hates him most of the time. Of course it all clicks together in that little brain of his, but by then the argument is no longer valid and Maria is not upset anymore.

The ceiling steals Malik's interest for a second. This is the part where he reaches deep into his own soul and looks for the patience he seems to lack. That's the only way of dealing with this situation for he knows the minute he asks, he's going to be involved as well and he will endure hell together with Altair. Brothers in arms, they say, brothers in arms. Oh, he's shivering with joy.

After a long sigh, he looks at Altair again and asks, "why?"

"Because I didn't want to name our child 'Adil.'"

Eyebrows knit together, Malik dares, "what is wrong with 'Adil_'_?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Altair responds.

"And you still opposed to it?"

"No!" Altair shouts, exasperated, the dimple on his cheek deepening when he bites his lips in frustration. "That's the problem; _I _didn't. She dreamt I did. Woke me up, crying, and I thought something bad had happened. When I asked her what was wrong, she slapped me, said I was a bad husband, and kicked me out. And I do mean _kicked_!"

Malik smiles, rolling his eyes, his body trembles as he laughs a small laugh while pinching the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he wonders how in the world he ended up with such crazy people in his life. "All right, quit your yelling, Altair."

"And you quit laughing!" Altair exclaims, and what he really wants to say is that those kicks _hurt_. How Maria manages to be so strong is beyond him. It makes no sense! He can hold both of her wrists with just one hand, carry her in his arms all day without getting tired because, no matter how tough she is, she's still got the cadence of the feminine body, the soft lines and the delicate smile. She's joyful, she is, and she has this way of saying '_I love you_' with her fingertips, running up and down his arm. And then she clenches her hands into fists, they're tiny, and they send a person tumbling away with a bloody, broken nose. And while Altair is more than happy to have found her, always proud when introducing her to others as his wife, he absolutely hates it when he's at the end of all her punches and kicks.

Malik watches as his friend sits quietly, deep in thought, and instead of wondering about the crazy people in his life, he wonders if he'll be getting any sleep tonight. Then there's a knock on the door, Altair looks startled, and Malik knows that the answer is no, probably not.

"Do _not_ think you can hide from me in there, Altair!"

As Maria's voice travels through the room, Malik mouths the words '_your problem_' at Altair, who, in turn, points a finger at him, mouths the words '_don't open_' and then Malik holds back the urge to slap Altair and steps closer to the Grand Master until it's safe enough to whisper, "you want me to leave your _pregnant_ wife standing outside?"

And no, of course he doesn't, so Altair sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat. Malik mumbles something that sounds a lot like '_I thought so_' and, once again, opens the door when he could've been dreaming of drowning the moron who almost chopped off his ear. He can't let that go, honestly, how difficult is it to aim properly?

"Hello, Maria," Malik greets.

Maria faces him, bright blue eyes scanning the place to find Altair, but not before staring right into Malik's, telling him that he's in trouble for hiding her husband. Malik doesn't mind, he's used to it, actually. It's the way that she stands there, trying to portray anger, comfortable in her own skin, arms crossed and resting on top of her ever growing belly. Malik isn't sure if she's about five or six months along now, but she looks lovely. It's rare for Malik to see her like this; unguarded. Hair is down, framing her face, and she's wearing a white chemise that clings to her body more so than normal now that she's pregnant. Malik avoids looking anywhere but her face, and he knows that if he chose to be disrespectful, he could see the faint lines of her breasts hiding underneath the piece of clothing, the scar situated on her chest as well. But he keeps his gaze even, cocking an eyebrow when she and Altair engage in a staring contest.

"I will leave you both alone," Malik offers, and he hopes they see just how much he sacrifices for them. He should be throwing them both out so he could get his well deserved rest. But Maria tends to be headstrong, and Altair is downright stubborn.

"Nonsense," Maria says without looking away from Altair. "I just came here to fetch my husband, you need not leave."

Attention on the Grand Master, his only defense is, "you kicked me."

Maria smiles at that. "You deserved it."

"For disagreeing with you in a dream?"

Malik mentally tells Altair to shut up.

"Yes, for disagreeing with me in a dream! I have no idea why that dream had such an impact on me, I just know that it did, and you upset me."

"Maria, I've no control over-"

"My love, could you please let it go?" Maria says, sweetness in her tone, holding back a chuckle when she sees the shocked expression on Altair's face. "Arguing will do us no good. Let's just go back to bed, all right? You've bothered Malik enough."

"That is true," Malik scoffs.

Maria laughs and stretches out her hand. It's just one second but Malik is fast enough to catch the shine that dances over Altair's eyes before he allows himself to smile, and there's no problem because it's between the three—four—of them. He gets up, bare feet hitting the cold tiles and he takes Maria's hand in his. Her smile is much wider and carefree, and they say goodnight, that's happiness right there and Malik finally collapses on his bed, wondering once again what was it that brought such crazy people into his life.

Luck, he guesses before falling asleep.


End file.
